


Watcher

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-03
Updated: 2010-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Watcher's thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watcher

He watched as she moved across the training room floor. He was, as ever; amazed anew at the grace and precision with which she performed the ancient movements. As if, he mused, she was born to it. And this thought caused a soundless chuckle, because yes, in a way, she had been born to do precisely this.

Her movements flawless, a look of blank concentration on her face, he watched as she flowed across the room, fascinated as always by the interplay of her muscles as she glided from one movement into the next. She had surpassed all of his expectations of her. And he had to admit, when he had first met her, those expectations had been low. When she had breezed into the library, and into his life, his initial thoughts had not been favourable. No, not favourable at all, he thought with an internal sigh.

She hadn't looked, or behaved, in the manner he expected. Her flagrant disregard for her responsibilities had shocked and horrified him. He, who had been brought up to revere his duties, had expected the same devotion from her. But no, she had refused to accept her role, had wanted to live her life and be normal.

But that was sadly not to be. She had tried so hard, but normal was never going to happen for her. And even though it went against everything that he had been taught, he had tried to help her, tried to make things as normal as he could for her. But it hadn’t been easy, and in the end, nothing he did could change the inescapable fact that her life was not normal, and never would be.

Slowly, she had accepted the fact that things were never going to be easy and simple and that her duties couldn't be put aside. Her initial resistance was put aside, and with each fight, each passing day, resigned acceptance set in. And so she shed her adolescence and he watched as she lost her youthful demeanour and grew into a seasoned warrior. And he mourned the loss of her freshness, as her shoulders grew more bowed beneath the weight of her duty.

A cessation in movement brought him out of his memories and as he watched, she moved to the side of the room to select a blade. She was moving onto sword work now. He nodded to himself approvingly as he watched her manipulate the steel like it was an extension of her self. The steel flashed and her movements were fluid and precise as she went through the intricate rhythms.

Watching her, he remembered back in the early days when he despaired of ever teaching her to respect this form of fighting. Her irreverence had at times driven him out of his mind. But it had endeared her to him as well. Her little quirks and the way she always managed to mangle the English language, while infuriating, were also what made him think fondly of her.

Nothing in his life had prepared him for her, not even his brief foray into the dark arts. The force of her personality, her spirit, fair flattened him.

His mind was frequently in a whirl trying to keep up with her offhand and sometimes nonsensical comments, even now after so many years spent in her company. And his heart, his heart was in turmoil trying to come to terms with the depth of his feelings and emotions for this slip of a girl.

The sound of the sword slicing through the air was soothing and he closed his eyes as his mind flashed back to years past, to everything that had shaped them into who and what they were.

The Master, the Cruciamentum, Eyghon, Jenny, Angelus, Acathla, Faith, the mayor, the Initiative, Adam, her mother, Dawn, Glory, Tara, The First, Spike...too much to remember.

Some of her choices had resulted in so much pain for all of them, had made him question himself and his relevance. He had nearly left once, had indeed left when she had...passed on. He still couldn't think of that time without feeling his heart clench.

When she had returned, no, he mentally shook his head at that. No, he wasn't being honest by thinking that, no, not when she returned, but more when she had been forcibly torn from her rest, he had come back, come back to her, for her. But it hadn't been the same. She had changed, as had he. So he had left again. And he had regretted that ever since. Their already frayed bond was weakened further by his departure.

Things had been fraught from that time. Nothing seemed to go right. The close knit ties of friendship had unravelled and numerous problems had appeared to assault this rag-tag army from every direction. And at the core, she had been expected to stand firm and lead. But she had been alone, as he had refused to return, saying that she needed to stand on her own and not depend on him.

Oh, how he rued those words. How he wished now that he had stayed and helped her. Maybe if he had everything wouldn't have fallen apart so spectacularly that last year.

_That_ year had been oppressive on both of them, but more for her. The demands of being both leader and friend, the betrayal by her closest friends and family, the sheer weight of expectation had nearly broken her and left their fragile bond teetering on a razor's edge. And he hadn't helped with his own betrayal of her, resulting from his sheer bloody-mindedness at wanting to be the one she turned to. He had taken his jealousy and driven the wedge even deeper between them.

But they had triumphed in the end. They had faced evil and been victorious. But the cost had been great, and he knew that she never forgave herself for the losses they had taken. As always, she shouldered the blame and dealt with it herself. There were times when he looked into her eyes and he saw someone that was more world-weary than even the most aged warrior, eyes that had clearly seen too much for their young age. And when this happened, his soul cried out and he wanted to weep for the pain and hopelessness that he saw.

He had worked hard since _that_ year to rebuild their bond. Forgiveness and trust had been hard won on both sides, but it had returned. It had taken more pain, and there had been a lot of shouting and accusations thrown, but now they were closer than ever.

When he looked at her now, he no longer saw a callous child, but saw a mature woman, a veteran soldier, and a trusted leader.

"Giles?"

His internal musings interrupted, he looked up at the sound of her voice.

"Yes Buffy?"

"You're frowning. Everything ok?"

He took in the sight of the woman before him and smiled slowly. Yes, she had caused him much heartache and pain. And yes, there were times when he had despaired of her and he had felt like giving up. But the heartache, the pain, all the fighting had been worth it. After all, it had brought them to where they were now.

His smile widened as he saw an answering smile spread across her face. And he watched as she dropped the towel she had been using to dry her face and walked into his arms, lifting her face to his, that wonderful smile still gracing her features.

And as he lowered his head and just before their lips touched, he knew, with absolute certainty, that everything had been worth it.

"Yes Buffy. Everything is just perfect."

-Fin-


End file.
